Van Helsing: Resurrection
by Yami no Ryu
Summary: It's two months after the defeat of Dracula. Van Helsing is called on to stop a necromancer. Joining him are two very unlikely allies: Daemon and Trin Winfell, American demon hunters. But they hide secrets, and Helsing's past is restless... ON HIATUS
1. American Demon

Van Helsing: Resurrection   
By Yami no Ryu   
Rated: PG-13   
Summary: It's two months after the defeat of Dracula. Van Helsing is called on to stop a necromancer. Joining him are two very unlikely allies: Daemon and Trin Winfell, American demon hunters. But they hide secrets, and Helsing's past is restless; what will happen?  
  
=== PROLOGUE: American Demon  
  
It was big--carriage-sized big. They knew that.  
There was a full moon. They knew that.  
He was a werewolf; she a changeling. They were Demon Hunters. Their curse; their life; their job.  
They were the best; it knew that. It attacked, regardless. And received a wing-full of claw and a chest-full of steel.  
It was dead before it hit the ground. 


	2. The Assignment

Van Helsing: Resurrection  
By Yami no Ryu  
Rated: PG-13  
Summary: It's two months after the defeat of Dracula. Van Helsing is called on to stop a necromancer. Joining him are two very unlikely allies: Daemon and Trin Winfell, American demon hunters. But they hide secrets, and Helsing's past is restless; what will happen?  
Author's Note: Gabriel Van Helsing will be called the afore mentioned, Van Helsing, Helsing, or Gabriel. Just to clear up any confusion.

===

CHAPTER 1: The Assignment

"Most people, when they see me, I can hear their hearts speed up…" His hands beat a fast tattoo against each other, quickening as he got closer to the hunter--or was he the hunted? He couldn't tell, not now. Not with him.  
"But you," he continued, slowing the rap to a slow, even, steady pace, "Do not even flinch…"  
He stepped out of his hiding place, with his breathing and heartbeat even and controlled; like the other had said.  
"Ah, Gabriel…don't you remember me?"  
He stayed silent.  
"We have such history, you and I…"  
"…Such history…"  
"…such history…"

Gabriel Van Helsing woke with a start, sweat-soaked and breathing hard. The nightmare…Dracula's voice, haunting him. Taunting him. Teasing him with secrets and lost memories. He remembered what he had said, not two months ago: "Sometimes things are better left forgotten." He wished he could believe that, now.  
"Gabriel Van Helsing, if you don't get up right this instant--"  
"I'm _up_!" Helsing replied heatedly, wincing at the loud noise in his dark, silent room. Sometimes, Carl really did grate on his nerves. "Tell Cardinal Jinette I'll be there as soon as I am able."  
There was the sound of shuffling, and then silence. Alone once more, Van Helsing closed his eyes. But there was Dracula again, sneering at him from the darkness. With a groan, Helsing got out of bed.  
Fifteen minutes later, he was following Cardinal Jinette down to the secret room. His hair was tied into a low ponytail--he discovered that it was easier to work with it out of his face. His long coat was draped haphazardly over his toned frame, tojo blades tucked up the sleeves and pistols in their holsters at the waist. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he watched the friars and monks with detached amusement. _They look like squirrels or chipmunks, running around, always with something and something more to do_, he thought.  
"What am I after, and how do I kill it?" he asked wearily.  
"We…don't know," the Cardinal said. "We know it can control or raise the dead, or both."  
_ Such blasphemy!_ Helsing thought sarcastically, but in reality he didn't relish fighting a creature who did either. "Is that _all_?"  
Jinette looked indignant, and replied, "There's nothing in our records of this ever happening. There is no precedent for us to gather information _from_."  
Van Helsing frowned. "Well, it can't be worse than Dracula, can it?" he asked rhetorically. "Where is it?"  
"London," the Cardinal replied.  
"London. Why is it _always_ London? Why not Beijing? Or Brussels?" Helsing muttered. The Cardinal ignored him. When Helsing saw that he wouldn't get any more information from Cardinal Jinette, he turned to find Carl among the rabble. It didn't take that long, he had only to follow the sound of either exploding or angry yelling. _Or both_, Helsing thought, _when it comes to Carl_.  
"Van Helsing," Carl greeted distractedly. He was examining some yellow goop with one of his lenses.  
"Carl--"  
"Hold on a second, Van Helsing," Carl interrupted.  
"--what do I need?" Gabriel finished.  
"Besides patience?" Carl asked, turning to Helsing. "I don't know. Nobody does. You can hack them to pieces," Carl moved to a different table, Helsing followed, "but they'll still be alright. The thing with them is that since they're dead, they can't feel pain, and so incapacitation doesn't hurt them in the least. Neither do normal bullets, or arrows."  
"Then how do I get rid of them?" Helsing asked, following Carl to yet another table.  
"Fire," Carl said. "Or Holy Water, but that's harder to come by."  
"Yes, and I can start a fire out of thin air," Van Helsing said sarcastically.  
"With some of my new devices, you can come pretty close," Carl said proudly. He picked up an iron box, and lifted the lid. "These," he said, taking one out, "are my latest invention: fire bullets. The bullet is made of glass, and will break on anything it hits. Inside is a special concoction, loosely based off of the Greek Fire. It too ignites on contact." He gave one to Helsing. Gabriel turned it over in his hand, noting a reddish cast to the dark substance.  
"What's Greek Fire?" Helsing asked absently, as he put the bullet back into the case. Then he slipped it into his bag.  
_ Ah, now I remember. This is the stuff Carl showed me before I left for Transylvania,_ Helsing thought. "Hold on, I'm getting to it," Carl said, shaking a finger at the demon hunter's impatience. He grabbed a small vial next, holding a strangely familiar yellow mixture. "This is the final product of something I've been working on for months--it explodes on whatever it hits."_Maybe, if I had some of that when I went--_ Helsing cut himself off before he could continue. _That's dangerous ground, Gabriel Van Helsing. Steer clear of it._  
Helsing took the exploding solution and slipped it into a protective leather bag, and into his pack. "And the Greek Fire?"  
"Don't you have _any_ of the seven virtues?" Carl asked despairingly. Van Helsing only smirked at him. Carl frowned. "Greek Fire is a type of fire that uses water as fuel."  
"That's interesting," Helsing said, "and useful."  
Carl handed him another iron box. He opened it, and saw glass spheres with red-orange liquid inside. "How do I put it out?"  
"Use your head," Carl said brusquely. Helsing blinked, then set the Greek Fire box inside his bag very, very carefully.  
Van Helsing looked over at his crossbow. "Do you happen to have any fire-arrows?"  
"You'll have to do those the conventional way, Van Helsing," Carl said.  
"You know very well that's impossible with _my_ crossbow!" Helsing exclaimed.  
"I'm sorry, but I didn't have the time to make anything more! The American government sprang this on us quite suddenly; we waited until the last _possible_ moment to tell you because it's so dangerous!"  
"Like that ever mattered before," Helsing shot back. Carl threw up his hands in aggravation.  
"We've never wanted you killed, Van Helsing," he explained hotly.  
"Oh, yes. That's why you sent me on a _pleasure tour_ to _Transylvania_ to fight _Count Vladislaus Dracula_," Helsing sneered.  
"That was different," Carl murmered.  
"I think you just don't want to accept that I am expendable, and have always been expendable," Helsing said, a little too forcefully. His blood boiled; he had done so much for the church and for God, and yet they still treated him as if he could be replaced in an instant. "Start accepting it, because I won't always be lucky, and one day I might not come back at all."  
With that, Gabriel stormed out of the lair of the secret Vatican society, out of Saint Peter's Basilica, out into the cold Italian night. He mounted one of the black mares, tied his bag to the saddle, and rode away. And he thought,_ I just hope this isn't the day I don't come back._


	3. Remembering

Van Helsing: Resurrection  
By Yami no Ryu  
Rated: PG-13  
Summary: It's two months after the defeat of Dracula. Van Helsing is called on to stop a necromancer. Joining him are two very unlikely allies: Daemon and Trin Winfell, American demon hunters. But they hide secrets, and Helsing's past is restless…  
Author's Note: Gabriel Van Helsing will be called the afore mentioned, Van Helsing, Helsing, or Gabriel. Just to clear up any confusion.  
Author's Note 2: This chapter takes place a little while after the first. Van Helsing is already in London and has been there for a day or so.

===

CHAPTER 2: Remembering

The moon was full; Gabriel Van Helsing avoided looking at it. It brought back memories he wished he could forget, yet was unwilling to. They were his only lifeline, as painful as they were. His only past.   
There were flashes, sometimes, of things before the last two and half years; things that he couldn't possibly have witnessed. Things that happened hundreds of years ago.  
And tonight was a night of remembrance; the moon's light beat down on his back, and though he tried to ignore it, he could not.  
He remembered the all-encompassing hunger of the Wolf; the screech of Dracula's wives; the cold of the mirror-gate as he passed through; the pain of being called "murderer"; the torture of being hailed "hero". He remembered Dracula's face, when they first met. He heard Anna's angry voice when he told her he had to kill her brother. And then a flash of something new.  
Blood soaking his clothes; his horse's matted fur stained crimson. The life-giving substance dripping off his blade. All around him, dead and dying, with those of the living tending to the wounded. There had been a great battle. His horse stumbled, whinnied and fell. He jumped aside, saying a prayer for the faithful creature, and moved on.  
Then the vision was gone, replaced by something much more recent. The jab of something slick and thin, sliding into his flesh. The burn of fire spreading throughout his veins. The sound of breaking bones…and then clarity...and _her_. Her lifeless eyes looking over to the side, as if not willing to condemn him for his crime. The friar behind him, a silver stake held tightly. He turned to the blonde, his eyes sorrowful. He had killed her; the friar gasped as he understood. With a yank he pulled out the needle, and he turned to her, and he howled. Howled with all the anguish and sorrow he had. He had killed her. And the unspoken accusation rang in his ears: _murderer_.  
The knock startled him. He had his tojo blades out and spinning before it registered; and he smiled self-deprecatingly. _So used to baddies jumping out at you from the darkest corners of your mind, now they are real, Van Helsing?_ he thought. He turned the whirring blades off and slipped them up his sleeves before taking out a pistol and walking silently to the door. He wondered, not for the first time, why he had rented a room at the dingy bed-and-breakfast. Then he remembered: today the moon was full and bright, and he didn't want to be outside. He didn't know what he would do if someone startled him. Better to have privacy.  
He opened the door a bit, pistol cocked and ready to fire. "Who's there?"  
"Van Helsing? Oh, good, I found you!"  
Helsing blinked. "Carl?"  
"Let me in, Van Helsing," Carl said. "It's cold out here!"  
Gabriel opened the door so the friar could come in. "It's not much warmer in here." He slipped the pistol into its holster before Carl could catch it out.  
"You let the fire go out!" Carl yelled in dismay. Helsing rolled his eyes.  
" 'Use your head', my ass," he muttered, then struck a match against the stones and threw it over Carl's head into the fireplace.  
"Oh, thank you," the blonde friar said, then began the tedious task of cajoling the fire back to life. "What were you doing in the first place, that you let it go out?"  
"Thinking," Helsing whispered. "Why'd you come all the way out here?"  
"They wanted me to tell you that you are now assigned to work with two American agents. And you stormed out in such a rush I couldn't give you the rest of your weapons," Carl said, poking some kindling into the growing flame. He didn't have to explain who "they" were. While he coaxed the flame larger, Van Helsing sat down and looked through the bag the Carl had been carrying. There were two more boxes, though they were wood, not iron. He opened one to see glass bullets, but with clear liquid instead of fire-water. He suspected it was holy water. The second case contained four palm-sized glass balls with more holy water.  
"How do I know which Americans to work with?" Helsing asked, adding the holy water bullets and "bombs" to his arsenal.  
"They didn't say precisely. Only that you'd know."  
"And you say they don't want me killed," Van Helsing said in amusement. Carl turned around to retort, but when he saw Gabriel was only joking, he turned back to the fire.  
"A couple logs should do it," Carl said a little while later. He moved them into place, poking and shoving, before turning to Van Helsing. "Van Helsing? Are you awake?"  
Gabriel blinked, cursing himself for spacing out. "Yes, Carl, I'm awake."  
The friar sat down next to Helsing. "Thinking?"  
"No, spacing," the latter answered bitterly. _If it were anyone but Carl, that could have gotten me killed!_ Then he reconsidered. _If it were anyone but Carl, I wouldn't have spaced out in the first place._  
"Well, that's better than broo--thinking," Carl said cheerily.  
"Yes, Carl, it is better than brooding," Helsing said patronizingly. Carl flushed slightly.  
"Well, you brood more than you think," he said defensively.  
"Are you implying that I don't think?" the demon hunter asked, eyebrow raised.  
"No, I--yes, I am."  
Van Helsing smirked. "Well, if we're on the topic of shortcomings, you should exercise more."  
"Are you saying that I'm fat?"  
"No, I--yes, I am," Gabriel teased, mimicking Carl.  
"Well, I'm not a field-man. I have to reason to stay in shape," Carl said indignantly.  
"You've worked in the "field" an awful lot for not being a "field-man"," Helsing replied.  
"Oh, come off it."  
"Now, Carl--"  
Whatever Gabriel Van Helsing would have said was lost when the famous Big Ben began to toll. _Bong!_  
Helsing froze.  
_Bong!_  
He flinched, ever so slightly.  
_Bong!_  
Remembered Dracula.  
_Bong!_  
The Wolf's senseless madness battering his will.  
_Bong!_  
Anna's lifeless body.  
_Bong!_  
Dracula's ultimate form.  
_Bong!_  
Ripping open the vampire's throat.  
_Bong!_  
The sharpness of the needle.  
_Bong!_  
Anna's silver cross.  
_Bong!_  
Transforming into the Wolf.  
_Bong!_  
Slashing Dracula's wings.  
_Bong!_  
The pain of knowing he killed her…  
Helsing sat stiff, waiting for the next toll. It never came. Big Ben fell silent, but Gabriel stayed tense. Muscles clenched, tendons tight, heart thundering, mind going in circles _aroundandaroundandaround_…  
Then Carl's voice broke the stillness: "Van Helsing? Gabriel, are you alright?"  
He shook himself mentally, relaxing physically. "Yes, Carl. I'm fine."  
How could he say he was not?


End file.
